


Some Strings Attach

by Kitexa



Category: One Piece
Genre: Drabble, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sex, Love/Hate, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:34:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25116229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitexa/pseuds/Kitexa
Summary: They’d been darting around this for too long, this little game that gradually added rules to a handbook he was pretty sure hadn’t been there at the start.A snapshot moment set towards the end of the Water Seven arc
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 5
Kudos: 170





	Some Strings Attach

**Author's Note:**

> I've been binge-reading One Piece for the last month and it finally got to me.  
> I've seen clips from both the original and dubbed anime, but most of my references come from the manga. My apologies if I've used any mistranslated terminology. I tried!

It was, quite frankly, a miracle they survived. Between the harrowing weather conditions that accompanied the storm known as the Aqua Laguna, the runaway train that took them _through_ said storm and of course, the headache and a half awaiting them at Enie’s Lobby, they should have suffered a helluva lot more than battered bones and bruises. An ordinary pirate crew would have come away with greater losses (unless you considered the replacement of a crewman with the so-called Sniper King but all of two people believed that narrative.) An ordinary crew also wouldn’t have dared to test the Gates of Justice, much less declare war on the World Government. Shit, they declared war on the _World Government…_

Roronoa Zoro sighed, crossing his arms. Off to the right, chatter rose through the rest of the Straw Hat pirates. He glanced towards the noise, not at all surprised to see their doctor and colleague, Tony Tony Chopper, bouncing frantically from person to person. Every so often, squeaky cries of “what were you thinking” and “you’re so lucky” followed after him as he assessed their injuries. _Lucky_ , Zoro thought, as Luffy’s winded laughter echoed from the group. Yeah, that about summed them up.

A delicate breeze rolled through the deck of their ship, the Merry Go—which, by the way, fell into that ‘miracle’ category. How the hell had the beaten, broken ship make its way across the sea? Much less on her own? And then there was that voice…

 _Nope_. _Not going to go there_. Some mysteries were best left up to the unknown. Zoro dropped his arm and pushed himself off the mast he’d been leaning against. Speaking of mysteries, it appeared one member of their crew managed to slink away—and no, he was not referring to Usopp.

“Hey,” he said and then he frowned; his voice swallowed by the fuss on the deck. He tried again, louder this time. “ _Hey_ idiots.”

Chopper yelped and Usopp—sorry, the Sniper King—flinched. Alright, maybe ‘louder’ was an understatement. Before he could correct himself, navigator Nami swiveled around.

“What is it, Zoro?” She said, fixing him with an irritated glare. Never one to wilt under embarrassment, Zoro matched her look with one of his own.

“Any of you wonder where our cook wandered off to?”

Nami paused and gradually, her expression shifted to one of surprise. “Sanji’s not here?” 

Zoro crossed his arms and his mouth thinned. He watched the same realization spread through the rest of the crew, accumulating into a distressed cry from Chopper: “I haven’t examined him yet!”

“Calm down,” Zoro barked at him; this time he caught himself and in a tighter voice, added “I think I know where he is.”

The little reindeer’s lip wobbled. Zoro wasn’t sure if it stemmed from worry or guilt. Maybe both. Nami moved to stand beside Chopper.

“If you know where Sanji is, why didn’t you go after him?” Zoro’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m not his babysitter,” he retorted. Nonetheless, he turned away, wordlessly excusing himself from the group. Nami said something to his back but he ignored it. It wasn’t his job to keep track of Sanji, but someone evidently needed to; this wasn’t the first time the cook disappeared. 

Zoro descended the short staircase that led to the kitchen door. The damp and damaged wood creaked under his boots, reverberating off the splintering walls. Zoro’s chest tightened, mirroring the tension in his jaw. It really was a wonder the Merry Go hadn’t fallen apart already. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, studying the kitchen door. It didn’t look much better than the rest of their ship: scuffed and dented from one too many hasty exits. Luffy was probably to blame for that. Their captain was a bottomless pit that kept Sanji on his toes.

Zoro’s heart began to ache and he reached up, touching the door as though it were an old friend. Luffy wasn’t the only one responsible for its overuse. How many times had he come in here, barking at the cook to _hurry his ass_ _up_ before they grew old waiting to eat, or dismissing a barrage of complaints while he helped himself to the rum, or slipping in on silent feet during the late hours of the night…

Zoro blinked and shook his head. _Too many times_ , he thought. If the walls could talk (and he really wasn’t sure anymore,) they’d paint a different story than the one he’d presented to the rest of the crew. The Merry Go was full of secrets, secrets it would probably carry to its grave—whenever and however that came about. Zoro flattened his palm against the kitchen door, pushing gently against it. It gave without resistance and as he stepped into the kitchen, Zoro realized it would likely be for the last time.

Sure enough, he spotted Sanji’s blond mop of hair hunched over the sink. The sudden influx of light caused him to stiffen and his fingers tightened over the edge the tub. Even with the distance between them, Zoro could see how his pale knuckles blanched further from the strain. They were bruised and scraped in places, unusual for a man who relied largely on his feet in battle. The dull ache beneath Zoro’s ribs thumped harder. Just another example they’d survived impossible odds.

He closed the door behind him. When darkness again filled the room, Sanji finally spoke.

“If you’re looking for rum, I can tell you with certainty we’re fresh out,” he said. If it were meant in jest, Zoro didn’t hear the humor.

“Don’t be stupid,” he replied. “You bailed on Chopper up there. I came to make sure you aren’t bleeding internally.”

Sanji shrugged. He still didn’t look up. “I can stand, can’t I?”

Zoro’s frown deepened. “You know that doesn’t mean anything.” They both knew the Straw Hats had the bad habit of pushing themselves well-past their limits. Hell, Zoro himself was guiltier than most, second tier only to Luffy. _Maybe it isn’t a miracle,_ he thought, watching as the cook finally raised his head. Maybe they were just really fucking lucky.

“Is that all, moss-head?” Sanji sighed, drawing Zoro out of his thoughts.

“No,” he said and then he paused. Usually, his first instincts were almost always to snap back, defend his naturally green hair and throw out a haphazard insult towards the cook’s absurdly curly eyebrow. If that didn’t work, he’d attack those embarrassing flirting habits. Under the cloak of dim light, hidden away from the rest of the crew, ridicule didn’t seem like the right go-to.

He watched Sanji a moment more, observing his posture, his tone and the way he conveniently avoided eye-contact by staring at the wall—an obvious but admittedly effective tactic. Everything screamed of the exhaustion they endured, but there was something else, too. Something Zoro couldn’t pinpoint.

“What are you doing down here?” He asked finally. Sanji paused.

“Why? Don’t tell me I was right, back there.”

 _What?_ Zoro thought but suddenly the memory struck him, rushing forward like the train on which it occurred. Learning that the idiot cook boarded for Enie’s Lobby without backup, wondering if he managed to keep his ass out of trouble while they sped after him in the runaway Rocketman. The transponder call that not only answered that question but gave way to a ludicrous plan and the subsequent teasing when Zoro voiced his concerns. ‘ _You worried about me, moss-head?’_

Zoro’s heart thumped hard inside his chest. A muscle pulsed beside his jaw and his face burned in a way he hadn’t felt since arriving at Water Seven. There wasn’t time. Zoro exhaled sharply through his nose. His hands clenched and unfurled at his sides. _We have time now_.

“What are you..?” Sanji questioned, evidently noticing the silence. He finally turned his head and their eyes met for a second before Zoro lunged forward, pulling him into a tight hug. The cook sputtered and stiffened in his arms.

“The fuck—"

“Of course I was worried, shithead,” Zoro hissed, cutting him off. “You scared the hell out of me.”

A soft, punctured sound like a gasp burst somewhere beside his ear: whether from shock or pain (or both) he wasn’t sure. He didn’t let go, though. Not yet. They’d been darting around this for too long, this little game that gradually added rules to a handbook he was pretty sure hadn’t been there at the start. ‘ _It means nothing,’_ Sanji told him once—warned him really, blowing smoke in his face. Zoro remembered rolling his eyes, leisurely plucking the cigarette away. Over a flurry of agitated curses, he’d laughed and agreed that fine, commitment of that kind wasn’t his style. He should have known better than to make promises he couldn’t keep.

He was pulled from his thoughts once again as the body in his arms began to shift. Slowly, carefully, Sanji relaxed; his blond hair tickled Zoro’s cheek as he bent forward, winding his slender arms around his shoulders. _So it isn’t just me_ , Zoro thought. He’d suspected as much. Not right away, of course, but as they adapted to life on the Grand Line, he’d noticed the rules began to change. They spent more time with one another—working together, exploring and fighting together like friends, as opposed to tearing into each other in the dark. Somewhere along the way, ‘no strings attached’ morphed into ‘pretty damn attached’ and when Zoro heard the cook’s voice on the other end of that transponder, he nearly choked. A rescue mission meant nothing if they lost one of their own (two technically but again, the Sniper King alias fooled almost nobody.)

Gradually, his tightened grip around the other man loosened. He still didn’t let go, however, fingers buried deep in the dirtied fabric of Sanji’s blazer. He felt a similar sensation along his shoulders and took comfort in it. The game had definitely changed.

“So…” he finally breathed.

“So…” the cook echoed. He cleared his throat, shifting again. Zoro smiled despite himself, lowering his arms. He felt Sanji do the same, and they mutually broke apart. The other man still couldn’t look at him, but Zoro was pretty sure it was for a different reason now; even in the dim lighting, the flush was evident across his pale face. Zoro’s smile widened.

“So, are you gonna tell me what you’re doing down here?” He asked, drawing back to their previous conversation. Sanji paused. Then he raised his head.

“Damn, and just when I thought you’d let this go.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Zoro mused. He watched as the cook’s visible eye wandered off again. This time, he welcomed it; Sanji wasn’t the only one a little red around the gills.

“It’s nothing, really,” Sanji said. He turned, looking around the room that had served them well for so long. “This place…it’s the first time another kitchen’s ever felt like home.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing to me,” Zoro said. “This ship is home to all of us.” He reached forward, hesitated, and then—fuck it-- squeezed the other man’s shoulder. A brief silence passed between them, before Sanji finally looked back at him. Something like gratitude washed over his face…then gave way to a twinkling, cheekier substitute.

“Hey moss-head, are you blushing?”

Zoro crossed his arms, but the smile never left his face. “Shut up and get your ass on the deck. The kitchen will still be here.”

For the first time since they’d landed on the Merry Go, a sliver of a smile tugged at Sanji’s mouth _._

“Fine,” he said, “but you owe me.”

“I owe you?” Zoro asked incredulously. Sanji hummed his confirmation.

“Spoiling my mood like that; it’s all sorts of inconsiderate.”

Zoro snorted. “Less talk, more walking.” Sanji frowned, but the playful spark in his eye never wavered. _It’s about time._ He waited until he saw the cook actually climb the staircase, then followed after him. Before he left, he closed the door and once again, his hand lingered on the wood. The ship wasn’t just home to a group of unconventional pirates. It was a home for their memories. Zoro’s new life and purpose began on this ship. He’d made friends and promises on this ship. _They_ began on this ship as well, he and the reckless cook, even before they meant anything to each other. The blush Sanji so accused him of burned a little deeper.

“Keep this one for me too, will you, Merry?” Zoro murmured, calling back to the secrets so deeply imbedded in these walls. Whatever they meant to each other now, one thing was clear: this next chapter, these new rules, were likely the last beginning on the Merry Go. “Thanks,” he added, for no real reason other than it seemed like the right thing to do. He stepped away from the door, climbing the stairs at last. It might have been Zoro’s imagination (it was most likely his imagination) but he thought he heard a gentle “ _sure thing”_ on the wind.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this piece. It was mostly an exercise to see if I can write with brain fog. The experience was a little challenging, but not as bad as I expected.


End file.
